Category: Chairman’s Desk

Inflation is a slippery foe.

In politics, it is one of the few enemies that can’t be outcampaigned, outspent or outmessaged. It does not conform to the electoral calendar, and it can’t be brought to the table for another round of bargaining. Most slippery of all, no amount of ingenious policy can ever truly stop it in its tracks.

Like a force of nature, inflation promises to return and to astound us with its accelerated pace and its growing magnitude. And like a force of nature, it has the potential to be deadly for those in its path. Presently, that seems to include Prime Minister Justin Trudeau.

As Trudeau decamped for Washington, D.C. to rub shoulders with President Joe Biden and congressional leaders, the news arrived that inflation in Canada has reached its highest levels since 2003. The consumer price index has increased 4.7 per cent since one year ago, surpassing the Bank of Canada’s target range for the sixth consecutive month.

That is a big problem for Trudeau. In politics, everyone knows “it’s the economy, stupid” — but the economy means different things to different constituencies. For many, it means jobs and economic growth. For others, long-term investment and stimulus. But regardless of which camp you’re in, every Canadian can agree that no aspect of the economy is more personal than the price we all pay for goods and services.

Since the pandemic began, a vast swath of Canadians has been indifferent to deficits, or the repercussions of massive government spending. The government has behaved accordingly. But now, compounded by global trends, those chickens have come home to roost. And while recent government policy may not be to blame, you can be sure that Canadians will start to care a whole lot about that spending.

For a long time, the Trudeau Liberals have excelled at managing economic issues in a micro capacity, by choosing policies that have a personal impact in the lives of Canadians. CERB payments are a good example, but so are their latest big-ticket items like child care and affordable housing.

Unfortunately for the government, the biggest issue in the lives of Canadians today is one that must be met with a macro response — and largely through monetary, rather than fiscal, policy. Mr. Trudeau and Deputy Prime Minister Chrystia Freeland are about to learn that you cannot fix every political issue with direct payments to your voters. In fact, that “fix” may actually make things much worse.

The jury is out on the extent to which major spending programmes like CERB have exacerbated inflation. Responsible economists may disagree on that point, but the question remains: Where will Canadians turn when they need someone to blame? If history is any indicator, I’d bet that the sitting prime minister is as good a scapegoat as anyone — especially on the tail end of his government’s historic spending.

What’s more, this rising threat finds Trudeau stuck between a rock and a hard place. On the one hand, his fiscal critics decry massive government spending; on the other, his quasi-coalition partners in the NDP demand exactly that.

If the pace of inflation continues, even many Liberals will be uncomfortable with billions in increased spending, as outlined by our increasingly orange minority government. For a party that centred its last campaign on delivering several transformative — and hugely expensive — new programs, this reality constitutes a clear and present danger.

It may be that while he was in Washington, Trudeau commiserated with Biden on the issue of inflation, which threatens to define this president’s administration — much as it did that of his predecessor Jimmy Carter.

Biden has publicly taken an aggressive posture on addressing the root causes of inflation, as when he ordered clogged ports to extend hours. If Trudeau learned anything in Washington, I hope it’s that he must do the same. And for the sake of our wallets, I only hope the lesson is not too late.

No one seems to be cutting Erin O’Toole any slack. The small faction of Conservative MPs who this week claimed to be forming a “civil liberties caucus” within the party must have had their leader banging his head against the first wall he could find at Stornoway.

And who on earth could blame him? On the cusp of recovering from a pandemic that has engulfed us for two years, and approaching a much-anticipated return to Parliament, one could not envision a more ludicrous hill to die on for these caucus members.

Since her bizarre comments last week, MP Marilyn Gladu, the leader of this so-called civil liberties caucus, has predictably and thankfully backtracked her comments and apologized to O’Toole.

But despite the lack of substantive support for their grandstanding, the event was vexing for O’Toole just the same. When the Opposition leader takes his seat in the House this month, he will be setting the tone for holding the new government to account. He simply cannot afford to be undermined by this chicanery.

Thankfully, Erin O’Toole did not shrink from this test. Indeed, he faced it head on: effectively nipping the movement in the bud, exiling the outliers to the backbenches and bolstering both his public image and his control of the party. Every living Tory leader in Canada was cheering. Each could tell you about wrangling caucus divisions, but the sheer unpopularity of the position these MPs took was a uniquely existential challenge for the party’s electoral chances.

Modern conservatism in Canada has been plagued by division and identity crisis, but the actions of Gladu et al. were more akin to a suicide vest than a principled stand on policy. With 80 per cent of Canadians and 75 per cent of Conservative voters supporting vaccine mandates for federal public servants, the fringe position of this bunch threatened to tank the entire party at a critical juncture.

But Erin O’Toole has learned some important lessons since September’s election. While certain ambitious Conservatives believe there is some value in sticking their necks out on vaccines, blessedly their leader realizes just how damaging it is in the long run.

While destined to never garner widespread support, the “civil liberties” charade raises an issue known to rouse some libertarians, a demographic that looks accessible at first blush. But in reality, this group are a fickle bunch. They are as likely to vote for a Green or PPC candidate — or not at all — as they are to remember the Tories’ stand on vaccines.

Staring down this dilemma, O’Toole acted with a controlled, calm authority that once again demonstrated his mastery of his role. It speaks volumes that most of his response played out behind the scenes, with the leader stepping in publicly just enough to make his views known.

No grandstanding, just a firm and sincere condemnation of vaccine skepticism and an even firmer signal that it has no place in his shadow cabinet. What’s more, the response was both clever and wise enough to avoid affording any further oxygen to his potential leadership challengers.

Erin O’Toole’s choices portend well for managing future caucus divisions, but the whole debacle goes to show that sadly, like so many of his predecessors, his tenure will be marked by obstacles and challenges from within his own party.

While the effective denunciation of rebellious vaccine skeptics is a feather in his cap, the episode still provides fodder for those who would claim the party is less than focused on providing substantial opposition come Nov. 22.

If, on that day, certain Conservative MPs are barred from the House due to their vaccination status, O’Toole will have to act with equal strength, authority, and most importantly alacrity to distance himself from their wrong-headedness.

Having passed this crucial test, he is no doubt anticipating the next. Those banished backbenchers would do well to get behind their leader and focus on providing an effective and fearless opposition if Conservatives are to have a credible future in Canadian politics.

In two separate elections this week, popular Democratic governors in solid Biden territory saw their political fortunes threatened and eviscerated, respectively.

And as is their wont, the American media have decided to treat a single night’s events as prophetic of their entire political future. The chips, they argue, are down — and Democrats have massively overplayed their hand.

There may be some truth to that. Insofar as they have not delivered on major aspects of President Joe Biden’s Build Back Better plan, Democratic congressional leadership has failed to appeal to voters in a way that is either tangible or immediate. And with a limited runway until the 2022 mid-terms, the outcomes of the gubernatorial races likely do portend a difficult fight for Democrats across the country.

But take that view with a healthy grain of salt. In many ways, these races were Republicans’ to lose. The party holding the White House has lost 11 of the last 12 Virginia gubernatorial races, while in New Jersey, Phil Murphy is the first Democratic governor to be reelected since Jimmy Carter was president — albeit in a photo finish.

To be sure, there were patterns at play that will be crucial for the mid-terms and beyond, with none more so than the quandary of Trumpism without Trump. Particularly in Virginia, the election was a test of whether a more polished and conciliatory figure can feed on the same dynamics that Trump so ably co-opted.

Governor-elect Glenn Youngkin did not exactly mimic or tie himself to Trump, but he certainly tapped into similar currents of discontent, particularly on the themes of education and racial politics. On the issue of parents’ rights to influence public education, Youngkin adroitly capitalized on the fears of white suburban voters, the very demographic that Democrats so desperately need to reach.

There is no doubt Trump continues to cast a long shadow, leaving fair-minded Americans unsure where to place their trust. For many, a Republican Party led by Donald Trump is too hard a pill to swallow. At the same time, many of these voters gave their support to President Biden in 2020 and in return have seen only Democratic factionalism and legislative paralysis.

Ultimately, the quandary these independents face is a difficult one: can they turn back to the Republican Party now that Trump has gone? Or is there something more pervasive that has outlasted the former president, poisoning the DNA of other Republican candidates? Perhaps most importantly, will a Republican vote in 2022 contribute to a Trump ballot in 2024?

Democrats have known since the presidential election that Trump’s absence would mean a less motivated pool of voters accessible to them — particularly in the suburbs. President Biden acknowledged as much this week in his response to a journalist who noted that he won Virginia by 10 points. “I know we did,” Biden said, “but we were also running against Donald Trump.”

The lingering question though, is whether Republicans can motivate their voters without Trump — and whether the Trump faithful will turn out for less Trump-y Republican candidates.

Glenn Youngkin’s victory suggests that with the right injection of identity politics, the answer is yes. And for Democrats, the consequence is disastrous: Republicans can invoke the spirit of Trump just enough to rile his base, but without handing Democrats a boogeyman to rally their own. Like the Wizard of Oz, Trump can pull all the strings, disappearing as soon as the curtain is pulled back.

And like the Wizard, Trump will do everything he can to maintain the illusion of his omnipotence, getting involved just enough to turn out his voters without kneecapping candidates in moderate states. Unlike in 2020, he will not demand grovelling fealty to his election fraud, but simply a tacit refusal to publicly contradict any of his claims.

This trend will continue into the midterm elections and beyond. Democrats will disagree whether swift passage of President Biden’s budget bill can make a difference, but ultimately they have a bigger task at hand. After four years of running against Trump the man, Democrats must learn to run against Trump the presence, a much tougher foe. Over time, they may come to miss his bellicose style and unpredictable nature. It made their jobs much easier.

When it comes to assembling a cabinet, a first minister can choose sweeping change or a more restrained nip-and-tuck approach.

After six years in office, our prime minister seems to understand what so many ignore: that the faces at the table are only a small part of the equation. At least as important as the names involved is the architecture they inhabit — the apparatus of government and its balance of power.

To understand the strategy behind this cabinet, we need to look past their resumes and consider how the machinery of government is being structured.

What has become clear, as Justin Trudeau starts his new mandate, is this prime minister knows his time is limited. Therefore, he needs to focus the machinery of government toward delivering the only thing that matters: results, results, results.

This reshuffle no doubt worked back from the objective of delivering on the “build back better” agenda. The new government has been calibrated in a way that targets key election items identified by voters, namely immediate action on child care and affordable housing.

What’s more, the prime minister, with historic input from Deputy Prime Minister Chrystia Freeland (or perhaps vice-versa) has clearly established a cabinet that they hope can deliver those priorities in the context of a minority Parliament.

Take housing, one of the most urgent priorities identified by Liberal voters in our own firm’s post-election research project, and one the Liberals simply cannot afford to lose. Now, a whole new department has been created to tackle the demand of those voters, with Ahmed Hussen at its helm.

Much like getting a pipeline built is sacrosanct for Jason Kenney’s voters, delivering on housing is imperative for this government’s voters. By establishing a new ministry, Trudeau has a spokesperson for progress and a clear indicator that he is serious about major action on this important issue.

Not only does the new ministry speak volumes — so does the choice to lead it. In his two years as minister of families, children and social development, Hussen was seen as an adroit manager of child-care negotiations with the provinces. Leading that work, Hussen developed a reputation as someone who can get things done.

On the climate change file, Canadians are not sure what to make of Trudeau’s government. Voters give him almost no credit for the carbon tax, and while they are passionate about fighting climate change, they struggle to understand his approach to climate action.

No matter, the prime minister has made it simple for them by appointing “Green Jesus” Steven Guilbeault as his minister of environment and climate change. For three days after the announcement was made, headlines called out consternation in Alberta about the choice — which may be precisely the point. In the simplest way possible, Trudeau is telling his voters that they ain’t seen nothing yet on climate change, even if he himself is unsure of the exact game plan.

Other moves similarly echo the sentiment of voters. Moving Mélanie Joly to foreign affairs is an apparently well-deserved promotion of one promising MP to a senior government role. (Even if voters do not care one bit about foreign policy.)

Similarly, moving the highly competent Anita Anand to defence signals that this government seriously intends to clean up the mess in that department. It’s about time. No, make that overtime.

Above all, Trudeau now has women leading the three crucial ministries of finance, national defence and Global Affairs Canada, which speaks to his government’s focus on equality.

At the centre of all this is heir-apparent Chrystia Freeland. It’s widely known by now that Freeland’s hands are all over these new cabinet appointments. And she has shown that she understands the importance of structures, rather than people, in steering the ship of government. Given the superficial shuffles of the past five years, perhaps that view is only now rubbing off on Trudeau.

The Liberals, Trudeau and Freeland have played a deft hand with this cabinet, targeting key priorities and paving the way for new leadership. Now they just have to turn to the small matters of governing and political survival, which they might find somewhat more troublesome.

This summer, the world watched, sick to its collective stomach, as the United States carried out its final withdrawal of troops from Kabul.

Setting aside both the strategic merits and logistical blunders of the withdrawal, those final visions of chaos and terror served as a stark reminder of all the progress that had been gained and lost over 20 years in Afghanistan.

It was a difficult lesson in regret. A humbling reminder of all that had changed since that fateful day in September two decades ago when thousands of Americans were murdered, and the very axis of the world seemed to tilt.

For all the deeply felt emotions stirred up by the footage from Afghanistan, there was also a sense of confusion. So many questioned how so much ground had been ceded in a matter of days. Many more wondered how on earth the United States, the greatest military force in the history of the world, had failed in its duty to those who had supported its mission. It was a pile-on by those who knew better, those who coulda, woulda, shoulda done things differently.

In those days, it was very easy to deride the Biden administration for what seemed a colossal failure. Just about everyone did — their ranks including many who had orchestrated the war to begin with, or who had supported former president Donald Trump’s disastrous 2020 treaty with the Taliban.

Notably, their ranks did not include the late General Colin Powell. In fact, the former secretary of state and chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff cut the administration some slack. Powell told the Washington Post: “I’d say we’ve done all we can do … What are those troops being told they’re there for? It’s time to bring it to an end.”

Going further and with remarkable candour, Powell argued the Soviets had left Afghanistan in the same manner, ultimately with limited impact on their global standing. “They got tired, and they marched out and back home. How long did anybody remember that?”

General Powell’s remarks were surprising at first, especially given the outsize role he played in launching the wars in Afghanistan and Iraq. But with his passing this week at the age of 84, I was reminded of his remarks precisely because they were not out of character, but rather part of a larger pattern of candid and public regret.

When people think of Colin Powell’s legacy, there is no doubt that the same visual comes to mind for most of them: the image of a passionate statesman making a compelling case to the UN Security Council, supporting the invasion of Iraq. But for me, the visual that comes to mind is very different. It is of General Powell sitting for an interview with Barbara Walters, and it is that visual that provides a lesson for our time.

It was in that 2005 interview on ABC News that Powell admitted his deep regret at having misconstrued the evidence — regarding WMD and Taliban ties — to support (and sell) the invasion of Iraq. Instead of passing the buck, Powell owned up to his mistake, admitting that he had got it wrong.

That kind of admission, just a few years after the event, is exceedingly rare if not extinct in political life today. Nowadays, public figures are given almost no leeway for forgiveness. It has become the norm to assume that when a political leader screws up, it was intentional; that there is some kind of malfeasance at play. We have forgotten that we are governed by human beings, who like all of us, sometimes simply make mistakes.

That’s what makes Powell’s example a powerful one. He had justified not invading Iraq under one Bush administration and had then done the opposite for a second. By 2005, he had seen enough to know how wrong he was. Rather than retreat quietly into private life, Powell chose to speak up. To share his regrets as a caution to those who followed.

In doing so, he staked his reputation for the sake of the future. And that, above all, makes him worthy of commendation.